Memories of You
by complex-yet-simple
Summary: I know your smiles were rare, and rarer still, were your laughs. But I remember that you used to laugh at me, my rambles and my inappropriate statements. Those incredibly blue eyes crinkling in the corners while you tried to hold your amusement. I always made you laugh, you said once – that's why you loved me.


A/N: Angsty. You've been warned. Felicity POV.

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**Memories of You**

I know your smiles were rare, and rarer still, were your laughs. But I remember that you used to laugh at me, my rambles and my inappropriate statements. Those incredibly blue eyes crinkling in the corners while you tried to hold your amusement. I always made you laugh, you said once – that's why you loved me.

I never did believe you; my features were too plain to have faith in that word. I never did believe you when you told me that. You were too handsome, too strong, and I was too imperfect and too weak to be with you.

Your wife is perfect for you, you know. She will fulfill you as I never would.

A few months ago, I received a wedding invitation along with a letter from you. It was not long, only a few sentences actually, but I understood. I'm sorry, it indirectly said.

I never once called you a liar, but that's what you were to me. To be in love is to fight for it. You never fought for my faith, but at the same time, I should have freely given my faith to you.

Love is faith. Faith is love.

I guess then that neither of us really loved the other. Maybe it was just a fling that all people go through in the grand scheme of life. That's what I will label our experience as anything more would be too much.

The music starts. The melody is cliché, even a child can name its tune. I stand in the back of the church, looking at the last pew, which is, surprisingly empty. I wonder how much work went through ensuring that no reporters or paparazzi can sneak through. The large group of invitees is sitting closer to the altar, but I prefer the scene back here where you cannot see.

With a few awkward steps, I come to the pew to stand silently, watching as the bride in white goes by.

Do you remember that day I met her?

I truly did not expect that I would be meeting her that day. The Laurel. Gorgeous Laurel. The woman whom you struggled to return to after five years. And I was just the IT girl.

The crowd sits and in conformity, I follow. I will not disturb your day, and I will not let you know that I'm here watching you and your bride seal your vows with a single kiss – a kiss bearing the promise of eternity.

You wanted me to be a part of your life, and I was eager to be a part of it.

I can still feel the weight of your bow in my hand, that day when I was contemplating my failure. I can still remember the way you trained inside the basement. Sometimes, you do it just for the simple sake of training. Other times, I can feel you venting out your frustration, pain and anger. Every time, though, is breathtaking.

Do you ever think about the day you made me your Executive Assistant? I was so pissed off that you rearranged my career, my life without asking my permission. You acted then as if you owned me already. But I could never be angry with you for long.

I rid myself of my random memories. The both of you are kneeling now, the priest blessing you. Farther up, I can see Detective Lance sitting rigidly; he's either glaring daggers at your back or staring at the beauty of his daughter. I can also see your mother and from the movement of her hand, I can tell that she's delicately wiping away her tears.

Do not worry, I will not cry. You hated seeing me cry, and I do not wish to upset you. My vision comes a little closer to where you kneel and the first pew catches my eye. Thea has a blank stare and Diggle has a rigid back.

Laurel did ask me to be one of her bridesmaids for politeness' sake. She knows that we've gotten pretty close. What she didn't know was that our closeness went beyond the building of Queen Consolidated. I declined the offer though. I admit that I lied saying I already had a prior engagement the day of your wedding, but you knew that already. Just another reason for you not to see me.

In a way, we are both liars. It comes easy after a while, does it not?

I watch as the priest stops his prayer and proceeds to the altar. I look away, regarding you for the first time.

Your face is turned away from me, but your back is in perfect view. I should have had the courage to tell you that I'm here, that your wedding is beautiful with these white flowers and coral ribbons. I should tell you that this church that you chose was magnificent. I wish I could say to you that your wedding is perfect, but I will not. Instead, next week, I will write a letter and congratulate you, ask for pictures. Our only contact will be by letters, a letter was the last way I heard from you. That letter held an invitation; a cream colored one; it felt expensive.

The priest opens a book, the Bible it had to be, and smiling I think back to a time where you quote lines from literary works. You surprise people when you do that, you know. Oliver Queen who majored in dropping out of colleges can retain classical quotes. I really loved to observe you – you could be such an antithesis of yourself.

Another song starts and to the front of myself, people are singing. Laurel's face bends at a slight angle, only enhancing her side smile, quirked quietly in the corners.

The smile is for you, it was always for you.

I look at my watch. In no more than twenty minutes, you will be a married man. I wish you happiness, you know that, right? I quench my feelings; they, in time, will fade away and become as I said…nothing but a past fling.

I hear murmurs to the front, but I do not pay attention. I'm again somewhere in the past, that time in the elevator shaft at the MerlynBuilding.

You can't imagine my mortification at my verbal gaffe. I can still see your lips twitch in an attempt to not laugh at me. I always commend you for not making fun of me or being awkward around me whenever my mouth says something improper. You really are a gentleman.

I think of the night you told me you loved me. It was such unexpected for me. It was right after a difficult mission. You were badly injured and Digg and I scrambled to tend to your wounds. I remember you looked at me, you eyes clouded with pain, spoke the words I never though I'd hear, but as luck would have it, you lost consciousness quickly after. Clearly, you were delusional.

The next day, you looked at me differently. You expected that I would say something, question you perhaps on what you said. But you should've known I wouldn't.

You never told me, Oliver, how you proposed to Laurel. I often wonder what took place, how Laurel reacted. Did she cry, smile, or kiss you? Or did it take persuasion on your part to coerce her into saying yes? To the latter, the very notion is doubtful; she probably jumped into your arms. I have never been so confident as to do that. If it were me, I would have thought it was only a grand jest.

A baby wails and a mother gets up, walking to the back of the church to where I am, she does not look at me though as her child needs her. She will apologize to the both of you later, I'm sure. I try to hide behind the pew when you look back to see who made the noise.

I'm not sure if you saw me or not, but in caution, I scoot over to a darker area of the wooden pew.

This reminds me of the time I coerced you and Digg to play hide and seek in the basement. I thought it would be fun and we can forget the stress of our jobs for at least an hour. You both thought it would be good training exercise.

Of course, you and Digg can hide pretty well. And I… well, I guess it's either you know me too well or I really suck at hiding.

The same woman with the child comes and sits next to me. A warm smile is on her face as she nods at me.

"Beautiful wedding," she says. "Sorry about Benny, right here, he loves attention." She leans over and whispers to me, holding her baby son gently in her arms. She has kind hazel eyes and I like her immediately.

I smile, "Tell Benny that I harbor no ill will against him." She gives a quiet laugh and faces forward once again, her attention caught by the wedding.

My own is not so attentive; I do not wish to view it. I start to tap my foot wishing and dreading for the moment they would seal their vows with a kiss. The kiss would be the end; it would be my moment of truth, my signal to move on.

Did I want to?

No, I would not do something crazy like stand up and confess my immature feelings in front of all these people.

"I'm so happy for Laurel," the woman whispers to me.

I guess I hide my facial expressions well as she does not see the building pain. I was okay until now. I accepted that my best friend was getting married. I do not love him, I do not. Only if I could make myself believe it. Memories tell me otherwise.

The woman, I notice, brings a tissue to her eyes. Never could I understand why people cried at weddings, unless they were in love with the bride or groom, yet here I was and I still did not cry and stutter. I would not be weak here, not here, never here.

"Yes, they will make a fantastic couple," I whisper back. She nods in agreement and then turns to me.

"I must get back to my husband." She holds out her hand and I take it. "I hope I will see you at the reception."

"Of course," I lie. She will not see me after she goes back to her pew, and I will not go to the reception. I will go home, call up a friend, maybe go to the movies…

We never did finish your movie education, Oliver. You really missed a lot of good ones when you were in that hellish island. There was one time when you we were having a Harry Potter marathon since you haven't seen the second half of the movie series. It was so late at night and I could feel myself drifting off. It might be my imagination but I thought you caressed my cheek and heard you whisper something which I didn't catch.

My attention is again on you. I never told you that you were handsome. I'm sorry for that. You deserve to know. But my pride did not allow for such a thing. It seems to me as if you stiffen when I look at you. Why is it that you were always able to feel my watchful eye? I always thought that you really put on a show on that salmon ladder of yours. Do you feel my stare now, Oliver? I hope not.

The priest is talking again, and both of you stand. The moment is drawing nearer and with it, my fate will be sealed. I think I will leave before the end, live my life without knowing what took place. Yet that would be a useless thing for me to do, of course you will say yes, and so will she. From now on, I can hopefully move on.

"…speak now or forever hold your peace."

Silence fills the church; both you and Laurel look around. Is that an expression of hope I see in your eyes, Oliver?

I lower my head as your gaze comes to the back almost as if you're looking for someone. I avoid your gaze. I, for one, will hold my peace. Instead, I ponder about what the priest says. He too is a liar. Nothing lasts forever, not in this life. Oliver, one day you will know my feelings… in Heaven people get to know everything. All will be healed then, right?

I see the priest turn to you and speak; I do not hear what he has to say.

My decision is made in less than a second. I walk out of the church, no longer hiding, and soon, I'm outside in the cold December air. Snow is falling steadily now and I become cold, my nose turns red. A few cars pass and the lights on the intersection change from green to red.

Stop. Everything seems to stop.

It is silly for me to place my future on the outcome of a wedding. It is better that I not know what happens in that cold white church. I will grow stronger – I have no need for this. My future will come no matter what happens, and it is up to me alone to face it and grow with it.

I turn back to the church, its frozen white structure rises before me both condemning and comforting. I smile and turn away to walk to my car.

The light is green now.


End file.
